Stray
by xxhawkeyexx
Summary: Kyoko had an extremely rebellious attitude, but when she meets Katsuya her whole life changes. This is Tohru's parents past written from Kyoko's point of view. Based on the chapters from the manga, I don't own Fruits Basket.


Stray/空電

Chapter 1's - Preface

I had lost all faith and my path was strayed. I had no reason to keep living, but didn't deserve to die— for dying would've been a reward for someone like me, but that day covered in darkness you took my hand and gave me the light I had been looking for all along.

私はすべての信頼を失い、私の道は外れた。 私は住み続ける理由を有しなかったががであろう私のような誰かのための報酬、あなたが私の手を取り、私にずっと私が初めから捜していたライトを与えた暗闇でカバーされたその日死ぬことのために死ぬことを値しなかった。

By: A.G. Hawkeye

Chapter 1: The Red Butterfly (赤い蝶/Akai Chou)

I woke up, the cold feeling still in my hands, and feet. I tried to stand up, but the wound on my leg made me fall again to the freezing floor. It was October, the month I had been born in, but I wasn't sure when my birthday was; I just knew that as soon as October began I was a year older.

It had always been like this.

Before starting middle school… I was already out of control. I had fallen with the "bad kids", and spend my days doing "bad things". Many people cried and begged.

"_Look at you! Not so tough are ya?!" I said as I kicked a girl from the other gang who had been messing with me. _

_She fell to the floor, her arms, hands, face, head, clothes were all covered in blood. _

"_P-please! Don't hurt me anymore!!! Plea—" _

_I grabbed her from her long dark hair, and pulled her closer to me, until we were face to face. I grinned at her face frozen in horror._

"_Die!" I yelled as I closed my hand into a fist. "Die, you little bitch!!!" I continued as I hit her in the face, blood stained my clothes. _

I beat people senseless or they beat me, this was the life of the legendary Red Butterfly Kyoko; the strong ate the weak.

This time I had been the one eaten.

I tried to stand again, but I only managed to sit. I glanced at my clothes, the blood had already a brownish color from last night's fight I had with the gang's leader.

I heard steps getting louder—people were coming by—then the footsteps stopped.

"Look at that…" a woman with her hair in a pony tail said as I began standing, she was accompanied with another woman with short curly hair, both of them seemed to be going to work, but the look in their already-forties faces was filled with pity. Rage began rising.

"Dear God!" the one with curly hair said covering her mouth with her right hand.

The other one took out her cellphone, "I'm going to call the pol—aah!" I had thrown one of my shoes right to her face, but missed. I hated all their so "perfect" attitude.

"What're you lookin' at, old hag?" I said as I staggered to the other part of the hell I was living in—my "home".

"That's frightening! How on earth was she raised?!" I heard one of the woman babble.

Parents…well, I had them, but I came from a cold household. My dad never thought of the family, and my mom only cared about my father and her image. We never went out as a family, and rarely even ate together. Not once in my life I recalled being held, and now if they were to talk to me it was only to tell me what kind of trash I had become; I was hated by my own parents, or it felt like it.

* * *

"Get out!" he said pointing his index finger to the door I had just come from. "You are a disgrace!" he kept yelling, but he didn't scare me at all. I continue to glare at him in the eye as I walked inside, but that hit the boiling point. He pushed me to the door, and raised his hand, slapping me on the left cheek.

I had no home to return to…

A burning sensation came from the place he had laid his hands on—another wound to let heal.

"In this world there are people who are needed and people who aren't!!" he yelled trying to show all his macho-look, while my mom just watched behind him in silence.

She never showed her face in front of me when my father pushed, and hit me. There were sometimes when I wondered if she even knew I was her child. One day ,while I was in fifth grade, I decided to try and act like a normal child and told her there was a kid I liked, but she just brushed me off, and told me to go get dressed because my father was getting home for dinner. Something really similar happened with dad. I gave my best to get my grades to the top, but not a single word of praise; all my efforts didn't matter—they didn't love me.

"You are the latter, you ungrateful child!" I glared at him after saying all the shitty things he would always repeat to me.

But glaring had only made things worse, but how worse could things come? Will the hell ever end?

He closed his hand into a fist, and hit me with in the same cheek as before.

"Never set foot in this house again!!!" he hissed.

"Dear…" my mother's voice echoed in the room.

My mother, for the first time, had perceived a fist-discipline and maybe tried to do something about it.

"Dear, please!" she said with such a low voice that it looked like a whisper, but he heard her.

Maybe, she was trying to fix things, it would be a first for her.

"Kyoko…Kyoko-chan," she said trembling, tears rolling down her eyes. "Why is this happening?" she continued playing with her ring on her left hand.

I looked at her in those onyx eyes of her that would always watch silently in the back without doing anything but finally…finally I was hearing her talk. Maybe, just maybe, she was going to help me…

"Why did you turn out like this? Do you realize how angry your father will be at me?" she said as she cried. "Do you know what the neighbors are saying?"

Neighbors? Father? Yes…that was all that mattered, wouldn't it?

I closed my hands, the pain mixed with hatred filled my body, mind, and soul, but she continued with such things about what other people were saying, and how my supposed father was angry at her for not raising me as she should have.

Her daughter was at the bottom; she didn't matter.

**I **didn't matter.

"Why? Why are you like this?!" she said holding her hands together.

If all the blame was for me…if all their hate was towards me…if I was the mistake…then…then…

"Then you shouldn't have had me…yeah?" I said my fists closing more and more. My nails getting into my hand's skin, more, and more, but I couldn't feel pain; just like a thing without feelings.

I had lost it.

I slammed my fist to the door behind me. A loud _THUD!_ Came after that—without noticing I had punched the door twice, but my mind was completely in blank; thoughts of hatred had blinded me.

"JUST WHO THE HELL ASKED YOU TO HAVE ME?!" I yelled, making her back up. The look in her eyes was filled with fright, and disillusionment.

I ran to my room, grabbed a small bag, and packed a couple of clothes I had in my drawer.

I left that day with my motorcycle; they didn't try to stop me.

It was as if I was made of broken glass. I couldn't trust anyone…not my parents, not my friends…I only hurt them. That day on the road I felt like laughing, and crying. I stayed out really late, and felt as if I could go anywhere, but at the same time I felt as if I couldn't move.

* * *

"Katsunuma! What on earth are you wearing?!" one of the annoying teachers hissed as he grabbed my clothes and frowned at my "despicable" clothes.

"It's rare to have you in school at all! And now this…street fashion?!" he yelled, but I wasn't really paying attention to him, but to the "classmates" gossiping, and glaring at me. "You're coming with me! I'm calling your parents!"

The teachers pulled me to the Teacher's Room, and began yelling at me too.

I barely ever showed to school…that's why I think it really was a coincidence that I meet him there at all.

"You should be ashamed of yourself! You are a menace, you realize." A bald teacher said, pointing me, just as my father did.

"You are hindering the students who are serious about learning!" he yelled.

Another "perfect" bastard.

I was totally pissed, first my "parents" babbling, now I had to deal with their shit too.

"So annoying…" I said looking at the floor.

"What?!" the bald teacher said getting closer.

I grabbed one of the plastic chairs next to me, and swung it to the baldy getting closer.

"AH!" he screamed taking some steps back.

"Shut up, you noisy bastard! Your squawking not gonna scare me! Got THAT?! I slammed the chair to the floor.

The loud BOOM! Scared the teachers, and some started to leave the class; no one could control me. No one could understand me…no one could help me…

"You miserable—stop that! Did someone call her parents?!" another teacher said, trying to stop me from swinging the chair.

I let the chair go throwing it across the room, making some pile of books, and some papers fall from a desk.

"Fine! Just stay here until your parents arrive!" A teacher around his fifties said as he flee outside the classroom along with three other teachers.

"You can't run from me, old man!" I said grabbing another chair throwing it too.

The two old teachers left froze, and I glared at them.

"You think you're so hot, but you can't do jack! My parents sure as hell ain't comin'!" I yelled to the other teachers as they left too.

Silence filled the room, and just when I thought I could finally be alone…

A teacher I hadn't notice asked, "What's making you so angry?"

I turned to glare at the bothersome teacher I didn't recognize; he looked too young to be a teacher.

"Huh? Who are you?" I hissed, but unlike the other teachers he didn't lose his temper, he just kept smiling behind those glasses without answering.

"Whatever, you can take your preaching and shove it up your—"

"I'm not going to preach." He said relaying on the wall beside the window, his brown hair moved with the wind coming in the classroom.

"Just tell me what's so irritating." He continued.

I sat on the wooden chair in front of me. "That's not of your damn business!" I hissed.

"Maybe not, but I'm curious." He said calmly, as if I was some kind of freaky research.

I punched the table.

"It's everything, you prick! God, you're annoying!" I hissed.

_Everyone, everything, they were trash._

"Everything pisses me off!!!" I yelled, my fist closing more, reopening the injuries my nails had done the night before.

_The teachers._

"**Them!**"

_The classmates that treated me like some kind of freak._

"**Them!**"

_My "parents", life, time, anything, everything, without them the world would be better! It was their entire fault!!_

"**THEM!!!**" I continued yelling, and pointed at him with my left hand while the right one kept making the wound deeper.

"**AND YOU!!!**" I closed my left hand, and kicked the chair on the other side of the table from downward.

"Everyone and everything! I HATE YOUR GODDAMN GUTS!!!" I yelled.

_They treated me bad, they hated me first! It wasn't my fault!!!_

"You just…you all treat people like garbage…but you're all just as bad!" I kept slamming my hand to the table.

He just stood watching, silent, as I showed him all my thoughts, all the feelings that had come rushing out without any control at all; unstoppable. My heart kept crying out.

"QUIT TRYING TO ACT LIKE YOU'RE ALL FRIGGIN' PERFECT!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, I couldn't stop the slamming at the table; it was as if my body moved on its own.

"Leave me alone…I wish everyone would just…go…" I whispered.

_They should've disappeared…it was **their** fault…only theirs…_

"Get out of my life…" I lowered my voice.

_My parents, they wanted me outta their lives…they wanted to get rid of me…as if they wanted me to die…_

"I'd be better off with you dead!!!" I screamed.

I slammed my left hand on the table until the pain got stronger. He kept watching, letting my entire resentment overflow.

"Die! Die! Go to hell!!!" I yelled glancing to the floor; I laid my head on my right hand getting a hold of my brunette hair.

_They deserved to die, and disappear!!! Not me!!!_

"You disappear! You fall apart!!!" I yelled as loud as I could; as if I had lost my mind. My voice had reached a limit, and my throat hurt.

Silence covered the room for a couple of seconds, and I couldn't look at the teacher's face, or even had the energy to lift my head. It wasn't fair. Life itself had been unfair with me all along. I had tried my best so that they could like me, so that they could **accept** me, so that I was **loved**. I wanted to cry, but crying would mean I had lost. I couldn't loose, not to them.

"Really? I think you want them to care," he said soothingly. "You want them to look at you, don't you? You want them to need you."

The grip in my hand got softer.

"You want them to listen to you," he said getting closer to the table. "You want them to accept you."

"I think…" he said taking off his glasses. "You want them to love you."

It was as if my mind had been read.

It stabbed me. Not in a bad way, but somehow I felt a huge jolt of sadness. It was true…mother and father…I wanted them to hold me, to ask me how my day in school was, to eat our meals together, to ask each other how our days were, to say 'good morning' with a smile, to help mom make dinner, to tell them how I felt…to be loved.

"You know something? I'm like that too." He said smiling gently.

But it was too late to apologize; I had ruined all my chances of getting to be loved by them, to be accepted by them.

"Wh-why did…I turn…out like this?" I said, repeating the same words my mother said to me that night.

"You're asking me?" the teacher said as I lifted my head.

I glanced at my injured hands, blood coming out from the nail marks in them. Tears fell from my eyes, I tried to hold them, but I couldn't, it was my heart what was crying at the bottom of those dark thoughts of hatred and disbelief.

_What had been my mistake? Where did I go wrong?_

"I'm miserable…I feel so alone!" I said embracing myself as I cried out.

It was all I wanted. To love people and be loved; I wanted to be happy, but I knew I couldn't change things the way they were. Not that easily.

"You're lonely?" the young teacher said as he stood beside me.

"All right." He said grabbing my wrist pulling up from the chair.

"Huh?!" I was stunned.

"Let's sneak out of here together." He said pulling me out from the classroom guiding me outside the school.

"Hey! What are you—" I said trying to get off his grip, but he didn't let go, instead he stopped and looked at me.

"Oh, my name is Katsuya Honda, by the way. Nice to meet you."

* * *

He guided me to a Ramen Shop near the school.

I thought he was weird, at first, anyway. I mean, he looked young, but he was a _teacher_, and _teachers_ don't usually do those kinds of things.

"Is it really ok?" I asked as I sat in the small chair in front of the counter frowning.

"…? Is what ok?" he asked.

_Could he really not get it?_

"You're a teacher, right? Won't you get in trouble?" I grabbed the glass bottle containing a small amount of salt feeling somehow unsure about his answer or why he would even bother with me; I began thinking that maybe I was some kind of interesting subject for this eccentric person or that he was a pervert.

"Don't worry about it" he said grinning.

It looked suspicious; everything about him was weird, yet interesting, and mysterious.

"Not worry about it? What kind of teacher are ya?" I left the small container on the same spot it had been before.

"I'm just an unmotivated **student** teacher" he said as he asked for two bowls of ramen with hand signs.

I couldn't really tell if he was as gentle as he seemed. He could've been faking the manners. He'd run with a student he didn't even know, and brought her to a restaurant, calm as could be. So the first impression he'd given me were that he was nuts, or at least, acted it.

I stared at the cooks as the prepared the soon-to-be-in-my-stomach food feeling a little happy, and confused.

"Why do you give rat's ass about me?"

_Those words would've ruined the odd mod…_

"Well…"

_If he'd been like my parents or any other adult I had met, he would've lost his patience…_

"Why do you think?" he said, the grin still on his face.

"Because you think it might be interesting?" I asked afraid.

His smiled faded for a second, although as he raised his hand, and moved my golden hair from my forehead that mischievous grin appeared on his face again.

_But…_

"Yes, I **am** interested, Miss…" he said staring at my face, while removing my hair from my face.

My heartbeat seemed to stop.

"…No-eyebrows."

_He was different._

"Watch the hands, grabby!" I said blushing.

"So sorry" he said smiling as he grabbed the bowl of ramen.

"What's wrong with you?!"

It was as if I had woken up from that long nightmare, as if light had finally took over the darkness. It had been the first time I had felt such peacefulness, I couldn't really get it; everything happened so fast, it was confusing. Although, that day the only thing I knew for sure was…the ramen tasted good. It stung at my wounds, but the ramen we ate was good.


End file.
